yellow stripes
on the helmets of the firemen. And then another puffing, snorting
engine, with hundreds of sparks and thick smoke pouring out of its wide
funnel, hiding the vehicle behind it in dark clouds. They're here one
moment, and gone the next, only to make way for another hook and ladder,
which sways and rattles past. The clanging of the gongs and the yells of
the sirens grow fainter and fainter, and finally, through the clouds of
sparks and smoke the whole weird cavalcade was seen to disappear into a
side-street. Little bits of smoldering wood and pieces of red-hot coal
remained lying on the street and burned with quivering, quick little
flames.

As they walked on the man next to Robertson told him why the troops had
been compelled to interfere. The excited mob which had tasted blood, as
it were, in the Chinese quarter and become more and more frantic, had
continued plundering in some of the downtown streets without any
discrimination--simply yielding to an uncontrollable desire for
destruction. As a result a regular battle ensued between this mob, which
consisted chiefly of Russian and Italian rabble, on one hand, and Irish
workingmen who were defending their homes, on the other. The Russian
contingent seemed to consist largely of the riff-raff which had found
such a ready refuge in New York during the Russian Revolution, and some
of these undesirable citizens now had recourse to dynamite. Some of the
bombs caused great loss of life among the Irish people living in that
part of town, and several policemen had also been killed in the
performance of their duty. It was at this point that the authorities
deemed it advisable to call out the troops, with whose arrival affairs
immediately began to take on a different turn.

The soldiers did not hesitate to use their bayonets against the rabble.
At several corners they encountered barricades, but they hesitated
resorting to their firearms until several bombs were thrown among the
troops while they were storming a barricade defended by Russian
Terrorists. That was the last straw. With several volleys the soldiers
drove the gang of foreign looters up Broadway, where a volley discharged
near the spot where Gerald Hanbury had been murdered, dispersed the last
compact mass of plunderers.

In the meantime the men had reached Mr. Hanbury's house and Robertson
rang the bell. Not until they had rung loudly several times did the
butler appear, and then only to announce gruffly